


Spectrum

by Selkie_de_Suzie



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: All kinds of love need to be celebrated, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Love, Potionless - Freeform, Smut, butterfly bog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 11:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6004075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selkie_de_Suzie/pseuds/Selkie_de_Suzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone deserves to be loved, and Love covers a strange and magical spectrum. </p>
<p>A collection of one shots celebrating the different types of Love in Strange Magic, in honor of Valentine's Day!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spectrum

**Author's Note:**

> Goodness, but I was struggling with what to do for the Strange Magic Fandom in honor of Valentine's Day!
> 
> But then I happened to see a post about different types of Love as according to Ancient Greeks. Since I always get a little bit frustrated over the fact that for a day that’s supposed to be celebrating Love, only Romantic Love is focused on, that post was an absolute godsend! 
> 
> As always, enjoy!

**_Agape_** :  _Unconditional love. Love of humanity. Selfless, altruistic love._

Marianne looked over the stretch of her Fields and into the depths of the Forest she had once so deeply feared and now so deeply loved –  _dark and wild, strange and beautiful, **hers**  in a way that still never failed to leave her humbled_ - and sighed, whole and heartfelt.

She leaned back into Bog’s embrace as they nuzzled each other, nestled in one of the trees that stood on the Border, a Border that no longer existed to separate but unite, and her heart positively  _ached_  as roots of love twined through her as she watched over their two Kingdoms, Light and Dark, fairies and elves and goblins. Everyone and everything she –  _they_  – would protect in years to come…

Marianne smiled as Bog brushed a kiss to her brow, and her eyes glowed gold with the adventure that awaited both Kingdoms.  _Side by side, but worlds apart…now united through Love._

* * *

**_Philia:_**   _Deep friendship._

They had  _everything_  going against them. He was an Elf, and a common one to boot, low to earth in both stature and station, and she was a Fairy and a princess, floating above him in a sky that spoke of her name, sunlight not even coming close to the way her hair spangled gold in the glow of the breaking day…

It had started since they were little - him sneaking out of the Village and her evading all the guards at the Palace, him running and cart wheeling through the grasses that whispered in the morning breeze, her wings staining a golden-peach under the pale glory of the sunrise broke as she twirled and dipped and danced through the air towards him…

_“It’s the **perfect**  time for us to meet – not only is everyone else asleep, so they can’t bother us, but that time of day and our names” – the littlest Fairy Princess had stopped to catch her breath after her whirlwind of words and beamed at him, so warm he could have sworn he felt it upon his skin – “Sunny and Dawn, sunshine and sunrises…it’s like we were  **born**  to be best friends!”_

Having everything going against you, Sunny thought as Dawn grabbed his hand, eager to show him yet  _another_ incredible discovery, was a shadow that faded fast when the embodiment of the promise of a new day – _sunshine and sunrises_  – happily held your hand tight.

* * *

**_Philautia:_**   _Love of the self._   _Can exist in two forms - narcissistic self-love and proper pride and appreciation of one’s self._   

The sun through the window glowed golden against his locks, and his eyes had never shone as bright as they did just then. Roland ran through the all the possible things in which to compare their glory to–  _grass, green apples, emeralds_  – before deciding  _nothing_ could possibly compare and contented himself with a glowing smile at the looking glass. “Ain’t  _you_  just a sight for sore eyes, good-lookin’!”

Marianne observed her old swain from her throne and rolled her eyes. Perhaps even more miraculous than remaining love dusted for so long was the fact that even under enchantment, Roland’s grandiose ego had not dulled the slightest bit.

Still…while her ex-fiancé’s selfish narcissism was grating and had left her deeply wounded, Marianne knew she would have never been able to be who she was today without him.  _Rebel, warrior, stronger and strange and **different** , proud of every damn inch of herself and finally finding someone who wanted her,  **loved**  her, for  **her.**_

Marianne smiled – let Roland keep that mirror to lavish himself with adoration.

She only needed to look within.

* * *

**_Ludus:_**   _Playful love. Love that is a game. Flirting._

She batted soft blue eyes at him, rosebud lips curling in a coy smile, and she laughed the same bright little laugh that had entranced many a Fairy youth. “So, what’s a handsome fella like you–”

Dawn’s coquettish expression broke, and she fell into helpless giggles, covering her face with her hands.  _“I’m sorry!_  Sunny, I’m  _so_  sorry, I just – I can’t flirt with you like I did with those other guys –”

“Is it bad that I’m kinda flattered by that?” Sunny questioned with a grin, tugging her close.

Dawn wrinkled her nose at him, her eyes bright and blue with the sweet happiness she wore so well. “What, that I can’t flirt anymore?”

“No, that I get a whole  _new_  kind of flirting just for me,” Sunny corrected, pressing a warm kiss to her cheek. She giggled, and broke into further peals of laughter as he tickled her side.

Sunny’s face ached from how widely he smiled. Maybe he and Dawn  _had_ been flirting this whole time – they had been playmates since forever, and after all, everyone said Love was a game.

Sunny’s smile softened as Dawn’s laughter tapered off into a warm, happy sigh, and she nuzzled into his embrace.  _I’ll never get tired of playing it with her._

* * *

**_Pragma:_**   _Longstanding love. Based on time spent together_.

Thang was weedy and nervous and honestly far more timid than your average Goblin ought to be. Stuff  _knew_ that.

She also knew how everyone in the Forest loved to talk, say that they were joined at the hip, one never without the other, that for all her complaining and eye-rolling at Thang’s general incompetency, Stuff flatly refused any other goblins who would seek to replace her companion in serving – sometimes  _surviving_  – their King.

“But…other goblins are so much  _better_  than me,” Thang said, eyes narrowing in nebbish and genuine confusion. “I thought you’d be h _appy_  to have someone else working with you, but you keep turning them down – it doesn’t make any sense!  _Why_  keep working with me, after all this time?”

Stuff could only give her usual eye-roll before winding her hand through his, making Thang’s eyes boggle. “Isn’t it  _obvious?”_

* * *

**_Storge:_**   _Friendship or familial love, based on similarity._

“So Griselda was wondering if you could talk to her about making some garments for the goblins,” Marianne called out to Dawn from where she was reclined against the elegant green and gold loveseat, languidly sharpening her sword. 

She made quite the sight, her movements slow and steady and elegant with certainty as she cared for her blade, and Dagda was able to bite back a comment over how he had asked her more than a dozen times that such a practice wasn’t meant for their living room what with how  _serene_  she looked then, how  _happy_.

Her amber eyes – from her mother’s side, every bit of Marianne seemed to carry an echo of his Queen – sparkled with a soft mischief. “There’ve been reports that other goblins are getting pretty envious of Brutus’s spiffy new vest. Apparently Pare’s fashion is Goblin Chic.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Dawn laughed, her fingers nimbly stitching another row of limpidly glittering beads across the train of yet another dress. Dagda’s mustache curled as he thought of how his youngest girl’s repeated requests for more dresses for her dolls should have been a clear sign of what was to come.

Neatly snipping at her thread and knotting it, Dawn arched a brow at Marianne. “How about a trade? Sunny’s said that some of the elves are curious about learning how to defend themselves. Do you think some of the goblins could teach them some basic combat moves?”

_“Awesome_  idea,” Marianne enthused, her smile as warm as sunlight as she looked at her baby sister. “Y’know, Bog actually said something about having Sunny teach some of his guards how to get through the Forest like he did, considering that he was able to evade all of them –“

As his girls chattered on enthusiastically, Dagda sank back against his chair and let out a warm, happy sigh. The sight of his daughters, both so happy and strong and adept at their passions, both of them so invested and full of hope over strengthening the Kingdom and relations…

Dagda looked back down at his book, but the fine print of the words were blurred as he blinked eyes that were misty with happiness.  _You would be so proud of them, my love._

* * *

**_Eros:_**   _Sexual passion._

The moonlight was perfect right now, but no word could possibly do justice to the sheer beauty of how it  _glowed_  on Marianne’s skin, as if she were illuminated from within.  _Perhaps she’s moonlight given form._

Bog wouldn’t have put such a thing past her. Marianne had challenged and changed everything he had ever known -  _nothing_  was impossible,  _everything_ was an adventure. And speaking of adventures…

Bog let himself be greedy as his people were rumored to be and drank in the purity of the sight, stroking a languid hand over the curves and slopes of her body, his rough palm easily spanning the valley of her waist, his claws lightly tracing the taut plain of her stomach.  _So many territories to still learn, and yet another land you’ve always known…_

But he  _hadn’t_  always known Marianne – it only seemed so at times, their lives had become so entwined. But when she had first entered his life, it had been with a punch to the face and a shatter of glass.  _So fierce, so wild, so incredibly **different**._

But then she had torn down his true walls with gentleness, a tender understanding to her amber eyes that made all the vines of his thorny defenses retreat…

But it wasn’t with gentleness or the cool purity of the moon that Marianne was kissing him, holding him close and tight as she hungrily devoured him. Her tongue curled at his, and Bog groaned thickly into her mouth before giving as good as he got, biting at a lip to tug her even deeper into the kiss, and now it was Marianne’s turn to moan headily as his hands went from lazily savoring her magnificence to caresses that were just shy of rough with lustful intent.

Marianne’s head sank back in rapture, the long line of her throat so beautiful and pale in her surrender, her next moan breathless.  _“Oh, B-Bog…”_

If a smolder could have been given sound, it would have been her voice. Bog allowed himself a sharp-toothed smirk before giving a slow, dragging lick up her throat, savoring every inch of her skin, so hot to the touch under his tongue.  _Definitely not cool moonlight_.  

Marianne gave a helpless shiver as his tongue rasped over the butterfly flutter of her pulse, and Bog gave a soft, sucking bite there, his low groan thrumming against her skin.  _Know you like that, Tough Girl –_

Marianne struck like a snake, catching his ear with her wee blunt teeth in a sweet bite as she drew her nails over the scales of his spine, and Bog’s eyes rolled back into his skull before he closed them, his breath gusting out of him in a ragged pant, scales rattling and wings thrumming.  _And damn but you know what I like._

Marianne dragged the soft flesh of his earlobe free of her teeth and seized his mouth in a thorough and conquering kiss, and Bog melted as much as his exoskeleton would let him, dragging his claws through the silky thatch of her hair, palming the base of her skull, cradling her close, holding her tight –

_“You–,”_  Marianne gasped against his mouth, and Bog pulled away a bit, confused and concerned even as he burned for her.

But Marianne seized him, her fingers clenched tight in fierce determination to keep him with her.  _“You…”_

Her eyes glowed molten gold, sweet as hot honey, and her words gusted over his rough lips as she continued on, soft and secret and unbearably sensual,  _“…Make my heart sing.”_    

**_Oh._ **

Bog dropped his head to press a kiss, hard and hot, upon her breastbone.  _“Wild Thing…”_

Marianne moaned and yanked him up for another kiss, and soon Bog found himself in a tangle of heat and hunger, lust and limbs. His smile was smothered by their kiss, and only the fierce ache of love in his heart could overpower his urge to laugh. 

His voice still carried a bit of a chuckle when they finally parted, ragged and heartfelt as it was. “Ah love ye, Tough Girl.”

Clever fingers scratched at his scalp, making his wings quiver again, and both her gaze and her voice smoldered sweetly. “And I love you, almighty Bog King.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine’s Day, dearies. You make my heart sing and my world strange and magical with your friendships. All my LOFE to you!


End file.
